The palace of Requiem too found new life in the spring. The dragons of Requiem toiled, clearing the rubble of those columns that had fallen in the war. They raised new columns, and they mended the broken tiles, and a dozen columns soon rose in two proud palisades. Several masons from Eteer now lived here as Vir Requis, men and women with the wisdom to raise great halls. Laira spent much time among them, and she found herself adept at building, gradually mastering the art of balancing stones, of understanding their weight and pressures, of understanding the secrets of raising great halls like those in Eteer. Into clay tablets she etched the plans for a great palace, a roof resting upon its columns and halls leading to many chambers.

Across the rest of the forest, other buildings were sprouting—a foundation here, a wall there, homes of stone. The Vir Requis would no longer live in caves, in huts, in tents, but in permanent dwellings like those in the south. In Requiem they would build their own kingdom, a kingdom to last for eternity.

"It will take many years to complete," Laira said, pointing at her clay tablets. She tapped her engraving stick against one drawing; it showed many halls and homes rising from the forest. "But once this city is complete—when we are old and gray—it will be a wonder to the world."

Dorvin chewed his lip. "Which one's my house?"

Laira raised her stick to point at the true columns that rose ahead, the skeleton of their palace. "In there. In the palace. With us." She smiled. "You're to marry Maev, I presume, the princess of Requiem. You're going to be a prince."

He thrust out his bottom lip and nodded appreciatively. "A prince. I could tolerate that." He glanced over his shoulder. "I only need to get the old mammoth arse to agree to marry me now."

Maev came walking toward them, clad in furs and a bronze breastplate. "We better get married. I'm not raising our child without a husband."

Dorvin tilted his head. "Our . . . what now?"

The golden-haired warrior nodded. "You didn't think you could poke into me so often and not put a little baby inside me, did you?"

Dorvin looked at Laira, then back at Maev. His eyes widened, and he began to hop around. "Bloody dragon shite! I mean— I can't curse anymore, can I? A baby. A little Dorvin." He shifted into a dragon, rose into the sky, and roared.

Laira stared up, smiling softly, and placed her hand upon her own belly.

Spring brought new life to Requiem, and when those leaves finally turned orange and gold and glided upon the marble tiles, more light lit the halls of Requiem. Maev walked across the tiles of the palace, holding her son, and came to present him to the king.